Moments
by Allison Diamond
Summary: Moments are always there - just capture them. The missing moments that come with being in a relationship with Dez. A collection of flash fictions.
1. Moment One

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Austin &amp; Ally or any of its characters._

* * *

**Moment One**

"Dez," she calls, her fingers drumming against the edge of the sofa, "do you know the date?"

He shoves the half-eaten sandwich into his mouth. "I dunno know. It's the fifth." He licks his fingers, then stares at her. "Isn't it?"

Ally laughs in an irritated way. "Yeah. Do you know the month?" she drills him, her brown eyes piercing into his blue ones.

She scrutinizes his every move.

"Uh - that sandwich was the best. For a three week's sandwich, it still tastes good." Dez rubs his stomach, a satisfied look across his face. "Uh, it's January. Yeah, January."

"Yeah. Do you know what time it is?"

"Five," he reads off the red vibrant print on the clock.

Her smiles wear down, grins take its place. "Right again. You know what today is?"

"No. It's just Tuesday."

"Well, let me remind you: it's the anniversary of our first official date."

He looks at her, then bursts into laughter. She shakes his head in disbelief - how dare he behaves like this? It's their first year anniversary, and he thinks it is okay to blow it off, that it means nothing. He isn't capable of a lot of things, his behavior is peculiar, his actions are unexplainable, but this is the last straw. She can't deal with this right now.

She gets up from the sofa, and starts to walk away until she feels a hand on her shoulder.

"This is for you." Dez places a small box in her hands. "I didn't forget."

She stares at the box, then at him again. Impatiently, her fingers tug at the box; her breath increases rapidly. "What is it? A film reel? Thanks Dez."

"Yes, it's a combination of the moments on our first date. I'm not really good at this, but I want you to be happy."

Her face softens. "Awe, that's so sweet. My gift next to yours is lame. I got you that camera you were ranting on about."

"That's awesome. I really wanted that. Thanks, you're the best!"

She flashes him a quick smile.

"Where is it?" He looks over her shoulders, scans the room up and down, then looks back at her.

And the moment ends. Ally sighs as she gives Dez her gift, relaxes into his embrace, and watches the reel with him.


	2. Moment Two

_**Moment Two**_

It's the roses.

She sniffs the roses, its scent, a sweet licorice smell. Her fingers trail over the yellow-gold petals, the feel is almost luxurious as though the roses are spun in delicate gold. Before tucking the bouquet under her arm, Ally takes one last sniff, the sweet fragment is enough for her.

Placing the bouquet of roses on the bed, she pulls the shoes off her feet, strips out of the dazzling black print dress, and changes into a simple summer dress. Throwing herself on the bed, she closes her eyes briefly, only to open them back to stare at the roses.

It perplexes her that Dez bought her roses. For the year and couple of months they have been dating, he has never made that attempt before - when a special occasion isn't involved - Valentine counts, or birthdays. Perhaps he did something and wants to make up for it.

Yet, why flowers, why not pickles? Dez knows her addiction to pickles; give her pickles, and she just might forget about everything. Unless, of course, she could miss the smallest details, he read her diary? God knows, why he would breech her privacy like that, but dispersing the content of the diary has always been something that he wanted to do. She remembers the first time he tried to read her diary, and how unsuccessful he was at doing so. Her lips curl into a smile at the memory.

At her age, keeping a diary seems like a hassle, an unnecessary accessory. Not many twenty-four years old keeps a diary, to her knowledge.

He has some explanation to do, it dawns on her. Reluctant are her feet to move away from the mattress like crazy fans unwilling to let go of a sample of DNA of their most liked actor or singer.

Reaching for the cell, she sends him a text: can you come over?

As soon as she hits 'send', the bell rings. Ding, dong, ding, it goes. The phone scrambles out of her hands at the sudden sound. Now, that's fast, definitely a new record.

She stands in the doorway, the simple polka dot dress hangs loosely on her figure. "You didn't come here, because of my text?" Silly of her to ask, but she has to know.

He scratches his head, his blue eyes shimmering with delight. "Trish confiscated my phone. So, I never got your text. Did I happen to leave roses here? Yellow roses, kind of sweet-smelling." He peers inside.

Ally moves the roses from behind her back, clutching them against her chest. "How did that happen? I don't want to know. You and Trish need to work this frenemy thing out." She shakes her head, gripping the roses tightly. "Are these the roses you're talking about?"

"Those are the ones. Awesome. Just have to give Trish them now, and boom, phone back to its rightful owner."

"Oh, I see," she says, her voice wears down. "Wait, you bought roses for Trish? Let me get this straight, you buy roses in exchange for your phone?"

"Yeah. The florist said these roses are magical, and can make anyone do whatever the person giving the roses says. Cool, right?"

"Yeah, it's cool, alright." Dez can be so idiotic at times, and believes anything. She is stuck with him for a very long time if things work out as she plans. "Cool. You're here for the roses? So, have them." She hands them to him, and couldn't tune down the harshness in her voice.

"Thanks. This means a lot." Quickly, the roses make it to Dez. "I don't want you to feel left out or anything. I got you something."

"You did?" Ally furrows her eyebrows.

"Be back in a sec," he mouths to her.

She remains there. After a couple minutes or so, Dez returns with a bouquet, hands them to her, and waits for her reaction.

"It's beautiful. Did you do this yourself? The pickles look great here." He finds ways to surprise her.

"Yeah, I did. Bought the roses and pickles. Asked Austin for help, and he refused to help me. He said I should do this by myself. So, I did. Do you like it?" he asks, his voice slows down, as if needing confirmation.

She laughs. "I'm glad Austin didn't help you. It's fantastic. Thank you for this and everything." She gives him a quick peck on the lips.

"I've to go now, or Trish is gonna kill me."

Three waves and off he goes.

"I could have a talk with Trish, and we could have a movie night, just the two of us."

He yells, "Thanks, but I rather do this myself."

And there goes another moment. It takes forever before the realization circulates through his brain; Ally closes the door and plops down on the couch.


	3. Sweet, Sweet Confessions

**Sweet, Sweet Confessions**

Dez reads it once more before gently lifting her pillows up and sliding the slip of paper underneath it.

_Marshmallows and cotton candies don't collide._

_But they would make a pretty neat combination._

_Full of flavor,_

_yumminess,_

_explosion._

_Just thinking of it makes me hungry._

_Ally, _

_I just wanted to say,_

_I love you._

_My brain doesn't process things,_

_as quickly as yours._

_I'm oblivious of a lot of things._

_You make things better for me._

_You help me understand things._

_Love is confusing,_

_I never understood it,_

_until you taught me about it._

_Thanks._

_I love you._

_Your angelic face._

_Your tender words._

_Your silky hair._

_Your imperfections,_

_if I can find any._

_Your voice is so lovely,_

_as though hotdogs have a vacation,_

_with cakes._

_Another amazing combination._

_Sorry._

_No more food talk._

_I love you._

_Your music is great._

_Everything about you,_

_is great._

_I love you._

_I can't believe,_

_that we are actually dating._

_It shocks me._

_You seem to accept it._

_I still can't._

_It seems surreal._

_I love you._

_Our first kiss,_

_reminds me of cupcakes._

_Sweet,_

_delicious,_

_and a treat._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_From now on,_

_I'll try to do more things,_

_with you._

_You are the mustard on my sandwich._

_\- Dez._

Perfect, he thinks, she will like it. He ruffles Ally's hair before closing the door behind him.


	4. Sweet, Sweet Vision

**Sweet, Sweet Vision**

Ally looks over the lyrics she has written; the words, an ugly scrawly mess, scatter themselves over the fragile paper. Like a paper threader, she strips the paper of its content, tosses it in the garage (which didn't make it, but instead stops a few short inches from the garbage) and collects a fresh one to start writing again. Jotting ideas down in her head, omitting some of those on the paper, she forces herself to think of this as a breeze, not as a chore. Then the words start to scramble off the page in a flash.

_Sweet, Sweet Vision_

_Visions come,_

_Visions go._

_For the longest while,_

_I missed that vision,_

_that sweet, sweet vision._

_Bliss of Ignorance._

_That was it._

_In its exquisite __glory._

_Then I met you,_

_And things changes._

_I missed that vision,_

_that sweet, sweet vision._

_We became lovers,_

_some might say friends,_

_hidden behind the marshmallow clouds,_

_shoved through the scorching sun,_

_pushed back to the frigid sky._

_I missed that vision,_

_that sweet, sweet vision._

_Bliss of Ignorance._

_That was it._

_In its exquisite glory._

_Then I met you,_

_And things changes._

_We became lovers,_

_some might say friends,_

_hidden behind the marshmallow clouds,_

_shoved through the scorching sun,_

_pushed back to the frigid sky._

_I wished for you,_

_to be more attune,_

_with your feelings._

_Notice me._

_Be like the other guys,_

_but I like you,_

_flaws and all,_

_because I fell for them._

_I missed that vision,_

_that sweet, sweet vision._

_Bliss of Ignorance._

_That was it._

_In its exquisite glory._

_Then I met you,_

_And things changes._

_We became lovers,_

_some might say friends,_

_hidden behind the marshmallow clouds,_

_shoved through the scorching sun,_

_pushed back to the frigid sky._

_I love you._

_Not meeting you,_

_Is like inviting hungry lions for dinner._

_Not loving you,_

_Is like the angry waves slamming the ocean._

_Not being with you,_

_Is like that favorite jam ending._

_I love you._

_I missed that vision,_

_that sweet, sweet vision._

_Yay, yayaaaay, yah_

_I missed that vision,_

_that sweet, sweet vision._

"False sense of inspiration!" Ally bangs her head gently against the table. "Dez isn't getting this."

"Getting what?" Dez asks, ice cream in hands.

"N-Nothing. It's nothing."

Dez grabs the crumbled paper out of her hand, not allowing her to process what happens, and starts to scan through the words. She bites her hair, then adverts her eyes away from him, and when she moves them back, he is gone. But there is a note: Who is this for? A laugh emerges from her, is he that clueless?


	5. Moment Three

**Moment Three**

When it comes to going out, Ally strays away from that whenever she has the chance to. Dez isn't exactly the most welcoming companion; he has a great sense of adventure and she loves that about him, but there are times when she wishes they could just go out and eat without causing a ruckus. It will never happen and she has come in terms with it.

When Dez divulges that he has gain reservations to the new restaurant opening, she is flabbergasted. Of course, he only reveals it, because she implores him to do so. She wonders what would happen if she declines it, but she could never bring herself to do that, when he clearly didn't want to go before until she gives him hope. Eating at fast food restaurants gets boring after a while. This time, just maybe, it won't be so bad.

She stares herself in the mirror, dabbing the mascara over her eyelash in a careful and exact movement. Applying a light shade of orange lipgloss over her lips, she removes the smudges and closes her makeup kit. Simple is better than wearing too much makeup. Just like her.

Running a hand through the delicate fabric of the dress, a gasp escapes from her lips. Soft, smooth, beautiful. Picking up the dress, Ally admires the pleated skirt, the thin sleeves, the V-neck, and the color: a light peach. It's perfect for a night like this. Carefully, she throws the dress over her. Then she stares at her reflection - she looks good if she say so herself - the dress gives her an innocence look.

To accompany the dress, she chooses a sling-black plum heel. As she slips the shoes over her feet, she relaxes, the satin material feels like heavens on her feet. A criss -crossed bow tops the shoes. Never has heels feel that good on her feet before. The shoe companies are really investing in their shoes now, she thinks, lucky for her.

Finishing having some dressing alone time, she reaches for her phone, and punches in Dez's number. Even though, Dez said he will pick her up shortly, she knows that 'shortly' means three to four hours. It isn't like he spends time beautifying himself or anything like that, but he would spend time filming short videos, or music videos for Austin. Lately, he has been working on a movie that he developed by himself. He won't let her in. It is going to be about a struggling painter and his muse whom he has found in a reserved girl. Take the painter out and the muse, you have her and Austin.

Dez always does this: torture himself with the idea of her and Austin. He never truly believes that she is with him, not Austin. Nothing she says or Austin helps. Though, she has manage to break him away from his shell, only if for a while.

She is disturbed from her thoughts when the answer machine comes on. It is unlike Dez to not pick up his phone. He has done that like twice for not so obvious reasons. Reason one: phone stuck between his sandwich. Reason two: phone falls in the dishwasher. Sometimes, she feels as if she is dating a kid, rather than an adult. Twenty- three isn't adults to some people, but still teenagers. Well, she considers herself an adult, and Dez, he has his moments.

Finishing her thoughts about Dez, she hears rattles coming from the door. That must be Dez, she explains to herself, he is the only person she knows to fuss over a doorbell. Trusting him with the keys to her apartment turns out to be more of an annoyance than a great thing. When he arrives, the first thing he would do is ransacked her fridge for food, or cupboards for edible treats. And the worst thing is he takes forever to open her door. Most of the times, when he's there, she's at work. He's such a badger, her badger.

She opens the door to find a focused Dez.

"Hi, Ally," Dez greets her, beaming because he didn't have to fumble with the keys anymore. "Can I come inside? Something has come up. I mean I've to tell you something."

Something? What now? She tries not to roll her eyes at him. Making space for him, she allows him in. "Sure. What do you want to talk to me about?"

He steps inside, closing the door behind him. "You know, that restaurant we were supposed to go?"

She didn't like where this is going - he's bailing out of her - just like that. "Yeah, what happened to it? We aren't going out, are we?" Eyes lock with his. Skin against skin. Lips twisted. "So?"

His cheeks glows red from embarrassment. "What are you doing?" He backs away, edging toward the walk. Coming in contact with the hard concert wall didn't do justice for his head. He rubs his head and mutters, "Ouch! That hurts. Anyways as I was saying, the restaurant suddenly close down. Some kind of investigation. Didn't passed the food inspection or something. I don't know. What was all of that for?"

"Just trying a tactic. I learned it from the magazine. Can you believe it? I tried something out of a magazine which failed miserably." She laughs uneasily. "You're kidding right? Gosh, I got all dressed up for nothing." Cupping her chin in her hands, she sighs profoundly.

"Uh-huh. You look really nice. Hey, you know there's a fast food restaurant a couple blocks from my place? Want to go there?" Dez shoves his hands into his pockets and stares at the walls.

"Sounds nice. I don't want to. Let's do something else together. Maybe catch a movie, or discuss the movie you're so wrapped up in lately?" Winks, winks, winks.

"No." His answer is stern.

"I always wanted to go to that blowing alley again. Bowling is a lot of fun. We had fun there."

"Next time, maybe. " Lightbulb goes off. "Hey, how about I make grill-cheese sandwiches? I make great grill-cheese. And then head down to the tap dancing event. I'm dying to go there."

"Yeah, sounds good. Then afterwards, we could -"

"Invite Trish and Austin over, and we can all have a big sleepover."

"Great way to ruin a fun romantic plan," she whispers, just so that she could hear herself.

"Did you say something?"

"No. Should we get started?"

He nods. Before Ally has a moment to think, he places light sugary kisses on her lips and leaves her like that. She tries to figure out the taste in her mouth: chocolate, popcorn, and mustard? Oh, well, it isn't the first time he kisses her and leaves, so she knows better than to follow him.


	6. Moment Four

**Moment Four**

Ally stares the lasagna with gingerly eyes. Whenever Dez decided to make something special, she prepares her taste buds for a journey through hell. During that time, the love she has for him is tucked away in a safety box.

Dez urges her to try his savory dish with his gestures, such as tapping the table every few seconds, or rubbing the soles of his shoes against the hard wooden floor.

Every time he cooks, she's meeting a new Dez. This Dez is more serious about her reactions, as if he needs her confirmation to live on. And if she tells the truth: that while he has his unusual taste, it isn't for her - sorrow replaces his joyful mood. So, she is careful in choosing the right words to spare his feelings.

One last look at the dish, she forces the spoonful of lasagna down her throat and swallows it, trying to not get the bad taste in her mouth. Explosion goes off in her mouth - the lasagna tastes good - it tastes like what she expects from a lasagna.

"So, how was it?" Dez uses his hand as a rocket, circling around the table.

She rolls her eyes at his immaturity. "Good," she says, her voice is inaudible.

Dez corks a hand over his ear to boost his hearing. "What did you say?"

"It was good. Seriously, I loved it."

"Really? You think so?"

She nods.

He breathes in a sigh of relief. "Good. I didn't make it. Bought it at the store," he admits.

"You bought it?" She pauses to recompose herself. "And here I thought, you were going to get lucky."

"Get lucky in what?"

"Oh, going to that Food's Contest, but I changed my mind," she lets out.

"C'mon, you can't do that! That's unacceptable," he throws at her. His jaw tightens. He turns his head away from her.

Ally laughs at his childish attitude; he completely misinterprets her words like she suspected, that's why she throws in the 'food contest' part.


	7. Making Her A Gift

**_Making Her A Present_**

The single flicker of the pages, the sharp contact of the hardcover, the soft touch of the ribbons, fail to prepare him for the spill. Warm droplets of gas bubbles. That is all what it takes to ruin his intricate artwork, not to mention the long hours he had to pull off. And creating these small memories which he fails to see the significance of, isn't something he finds enjoyable. Work, loads of work.

But he knows she would like it, she always has a thing for these romantic gestures. Sacrifices have to be made when you're in a relationship with Ally Dawson, or else, the silent treatment and cold shoulders start. God, he should know, by now. Sometimes, he actually looks forward to the silent treatment, but after an hour, it gets really boring. Thus the strings of begging begin.

Trying not to destroy the pages, he rubs the cloth gently across the spill. A sigh emerges from him when he realizes he did it. Actually did it without destroying the design. Lost in his relief, his elbow accidentally touch the stock of books, which tumble down, reach the knitting case, then the book.

Dez stares at the mess before his eyes. The combination of the books' weight with the knitting case rips a few pages out, he thinks, and greatly wrinkles them. Oh, well, the film reel it is. He wanted to do that anyway.

Ally's reaction will be spectacular, he drifts off with that thought.


	8. Moment Five

_**Moment Five**_

"Do we really have to do this? It's too much if you ask me," Ally reminds him, drumming her hands against the small table. "Why can't we just remain here at home, doing our usual activities. All this decorations and costumes is giving me a headache. I can't even feel my fingers."

Dez throws a dart in her way. "C'mon, Ally, Halloween happens once in a lifetime, and we have to make it worthwhile. You know, big and bold." A cheesy grin crosses his face. With a hand up in the air, he starts to make small drawings. "Yeah, Halloween is the best! Ally, if your hands hurt, stop tapping them against the table."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay. Remind me again, why do I have to be... Wait, what do I have to be again?"

"Me. It will be fun. Of course, I'm going as The Grim Reaper."

Ally's expression falls from annoyance to disappointment. "Oh, but we won't match. Isn't the theme for the party couple-y?"

He laughs. "Just kidding, Ally. Of course, you aren't going as me. No one can pull off Dez except for Dez himself. That sounded so much better in my head."

"Thanks for that. Don't ever try to speak in third's person again! Seriously, it has a bad ring to it," she scolds him, her eyes not straying from his.

Dez takes notice of her tone and backs away.

After a few moments of the dreadful silence, Dez breaks free from it. "Hey, have you choose your costume yet? If you choose something else that won't match with mine, I can always choose another one. It's not like I bought the costume already." He wrestles with his thumb.

"Well, not yet. I really don't care what I go as. We will go as Grim Reapers. Yeah, Grim Reapers," she reassures him.

"Nice, but wouldn't you rather go as The Sugar Plum Fairy?"

That image of her as the fairy is enough to brighten anyone's day. Except for her.

Squeeing his hand tightly, a smile dawns on her face when she sees him struggle a bit. She loosens her grip on her, but continues holding his hand. "Don't you ever tell me that again. Ever. I really don't mind going as a Grim Reaper. With you." Her voice softens.

"Alright. I've been giving this some thought, and I think, I could go as Howard Hughes. And you could as one of his lovers. Maybe Ava. He's a famous director. I love him."

"Howard-who-Hughes? That sounds like a good idea."

"I know you would like it. You always do."

Ally pulls him for a fierce and passionate kiss, only to be turned down. She sighs later, regains hope when he whispers, "Later," to her.


	9. Moment Six

**A/N: **_Been a long time since I wrote for this. I wanted to end this, but it felt incomplete, and it was too sweet to finish. _

* * *

_**Moment Six**_

Ally hates the cold.

Her boots crack under the powdery ground. The bitter cold seeps through her cotton boots, numbing her toes until they feel raw and stiff, unable to take another step. Shoving her hands in the warmth of the coat's pockets release a kind of warm that makes her appreciate the wintry feel for a second. When the harshness of the wind gushes make her eyes water, and turn her lips to an ugly shade of blue, she is glad to be in the comfort of the house.

The house has a strong aroma of hot chocolate and freshly baked shortcakes. And the saccharine fragrance of hot chocolate releases a smile that's sweeter than the creamy milk covering, or even the roasted hazelnuts. At the moment, it seems as if a heat wave has rushed over her, warming her body up immediately.

"Ally, what's up with that look?"

She lifts her chin up in an awkward position that makes her eyes hurt. "So not my best day," she mumbles under her breath, trying to reposition her head in a more comfortable way. "Cotton is like the worst thing to ever wear in winter. But I needed to wear it for a music vid, forgot to take it off, realized it when I was 'bout twenty miles from the studio, and my car broke down. So, when I went to call for help, because I couldn't see a house in sight — no signal! Argh, it's just not my day. I walked, fell in the snow, then got here. Yeah, so, to be in warm temps, is like heavens to me. That's what up with my look!" she finishes off, throwing a dart in Dez's way.

Dez plops on the sofa besides Ally. "My mom came by to visit. Smell that? Mom made comfort food for us to relax in this wonderful weather. Isn't that neat?"

"Your mom making us food isn't neat. So, where's she? She can't get out of New York. All of the flights are closed, and most of the roads are closed too."

"Yeah, it sucks. Wish I was in Miami right now." He pouts, looking younger than his twenty years of age. "We shouldn't speak so loudly. Mom's sleeping. Dad's here. Dad's watching the short film I did for Christmas."

"Can't dwell on the past, can we? It's not like I will be living in 'the city that never sleeps' forever. When my music shoot is over, we'll be back in Miami. Can't wait for that; I've been working on days for that vid. Hopes it's good." She sighs, drawing out the bags under her eyes from the stress. "Oh, that's good. Didn't know your parents were coming? Did your dad find 'One Wishful Christmas' likable?"

Drawing his lips to a thoughtful grin, he adverts his eyes to the ceiling before answering, "I dunno. He says he finds it ludicrous; his exact words. That's good, right? I mean it has to be good."

Ally closes her eyes, **wrinkles** her nose, and somehow, she starts to bite her hair. Just when she thought she was over that bad habit. Why, her, out of everyone else, has to be cursed with brittle nerves?

The truth is always better, isn't it? "Dez, I think your film was perfect. Austin rocks as the reserved Sam Caldwell. The role of Avery Evers was made for Brandy Braxton. I never thought Austin would ever do anything with her again after that music video. But you made everything work."

"Thanks, Ally, I can never get enough of your praises. But my dad hated my movie, didn't he?"

"Well, of course, he didn't. He loved it. Why wouldn't he love it? Who won't love a storyline that has the sweet, charming guy falls for the dorky girl? And throw in an adventure with deadly sea creatures." She **slows** down for a moment. "That spells perfection right there. So, don't worry about a thing. The reviewers raved your film."

"No, 'One Wishful Christmas' flopped at the box office. It was too predictable, unrealistic, and just didn't fit with the title. So, my dad must have hated it. Everyone does." His voice hints at his own deep despondency mixed with lots of exasperation. "Except for you. You never hated any of my movies before, and you never started to hate any."

"Now, Dez, don't be like that. Your film was great. It's possible that people wanted a movie, since it was only like thirty minutes. And when that didn't happened, it just—"

"Thanks for that. I needed that." He squeezes her hands. "But let's face the facts, it stinks. Being in the movie industry isn't always all sweet. I thought that every movie or film I make would be great, y'know? It doesn't work like that. We all learned that. You, me, Austin, and even Trish."

"Yeah. Sometimes, you're so thoughtful, unlike the guy I fell for."

His lips turn upwards into a smile. His cheeks, his eyes, his lips, even his nose, seem to have a smile in them. "You're out of my league. I've been told so by many fans that I stole you away from Austin. I never told you this — I, um, really like you a lot."

"I like you too. If you stole me away from Austin, I would have known. Don't worry about it, okay?" she reassures him. "I want hot chocolate and strawberry shortcakes. Can you get me some?"

"On it." He places tender kisses on her lips before walking away.

The cold isn't bad when you have a boyfriend like Dez, Ally thinks, as she goes to help her boyfriend with snacks.


	10. Moment Seven

_**Moment Seven**_

Twisting the handle of the door open, Ally notices the crystalline structure, almost if it is etched in glass.

Retracting her eyes away from the knob, she steps inside — taking long deliberate steps to ensure that whatever surprises Dez has planned for her didn't come back to bite her — that is the case too often. As she steps farther in the apartment , the wariness evades away, and she finds herself relaxing.

"Dez," she calls, scanning the room for him, while slackening her grip on her purse.

When she enters the kitchen, she hears a slight movement, but disregards it. Looking down, she finds Dez, sprawling out in what she assumes as flour, making snow — no flour angel? Instead of holding back her laughter, droplets of laughter escape from her throat, and she doesn't want to control it. Dez always handle it well; his responses are usually encouraging.

Before she could realize it, lily-white grains greet her, covering her entirely in flour. The flour slips through her mouth, urging her spit it out on the spot. It has already travelled to her eyes, but didn't enter her brown irises entirely, and she quickly wipes the remaining of the flour away with the sleeve of her dress.

"Ally, you…" Dez covers a hand over his mouth, trying to contain his laughter. He sits upwards, and stares at her. "You okay? Need any help? You look…look ghostly." Laughter bursts out from him as if it was always trapped in the back of his throat.

"I'm fine. Thank for asking," she mutters under clenched teeth, sarcasm dripping off her words. "Just fine."

"Ally, don't be mad. I didn't mean it…really. You just happened to walk where I left it. Thought it was in a good position. C'mon, Ally, it's funny, you've to admit it. There's nothing wrong with laughing at each other. I don't mind if you laugh at me. Do you mind?" Dez dusts some of the flour off his bright green knitted sweater, and joins his knees together to sit in a half-upward position.

She sighs. "You're right." Recomposing herself, she remembers how ironic it is that the knob from the doorbell reminds her of the flour. "Anyway, what were you doing? Baking?"

Drawing his lips to a disappointed grin, he combs a hand through his red hair. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"That's awfully sweet of you. But you know, you don't need to do anything so enormous. Baking is a big responsibility."

"Trish—"

She scoffs. "I should have known Trish was behind this. Anytime, you two spend time together, she make you do something really stupid." She slows down for a moment before adding on, "Trish likes to pull your spring. And you should know that by now. So, whatever she said, please disregard it. I like you for you. Not because you can cook. I've to talk with Trish. She means well, but she can be such a pain."

"Yeah, it's just that she's right. I know that I'm not like most guys. Girls like to receive poems, gifts, meals, from their boyfriends. But with me, my definition of good meal is too disgusting for me; my ideas of gift is too silly."

Ally locks eyes with Dez…

"Dez, I don't care if you aren't like the other guys. I don't love them, I love you."

and closes the distance between them.

"Uh, thanks. Come join me in this amazing flouring wonderland."

"No, how could you take my confession lightly? We have been dating for more than a year now, and you just ignore one of the most important step in a relationship," she snaps at him.

Ally moves away from Dez, but he drags her down with him. He leans toward and demands access from her. Soon, she acquiesces to his demands, and allows him to kiss her. "I love you so much that it frightens me, Ally," he whispers against her lips.

With that, she smiles; he does care.

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A/N:_ Reviews are appreciated. Also, any ideas that I haven't touched base on, and you would like to read about, are welcome._


	11. Moment Eight

**A/N: **_DarkseidAlex, I'm not sure if this is your idea of a jealous Ally and a clueless Dez, but I try. Be warned, there are dialogues than anything;it works for this._

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**_Moment Eight_**

Knock, knock, knock.

_I'm coming, _she wants to say, _can't you just wait for a few more seconds? _Ally slips in her bedroom slippers, throws over her robe over her nightgown, and resist a frown. It's the middle of the night, and someone has the nerves to knock at her door at this hour. And here, she thinks, that she would finally have those needed hours of sleep after pulling off those long and exhausted hours at work.

Opening the door, she sticks her head in the doorway. "Trish, what're you doing here?" she asks drowsily, trying to suppress a yawn. "It's late. Come in."

Trish glances around.

"I've something to tell you. It can't wait."

"What can you possibly have that I need to hear at this hour?"

Stepping inside, Trish takes a seat, and gestures for Ally to take a seat too. She breathes in small breaths as she prepares to talk. Ally rolls her eyes at Trish's unusual behavior. Trish never cared before about spilling what's on her mind before, so why is she acting differently today? _It makes no sense, none whatsoever. _

Seeing that she isn't going to get a definite answer from Trish anytime soon, Ally decides it's the right time to break the silence. "Trish, you woke me up. I think I deserved some sort of explanation for that. I don't have whole night. I've to be up early tomorrow." She folds her arms over her chest. _Trish, just say it, would you, please?_

"Ally…. You should sit down." Trish pulls her down to take a seat besides her. "I can't believe that he could do something like this. It's unforgivable!"

She raises an eyebrow. "Dez?"

"Yeah, that one. I went to check on him and I found…"

"You went to check on him? Why?" _Dez is your friend, Trish, you don't need to check on him._ Sure, the guy behaves like a kid, but he can take care of himself just fine, in his own peculiar ways.

"That's besides the point, Ally. I found something out that blew my mind away. Not in the good way."

"Found what, Trish?"

Locking her hands together, she takes a long look at Ally, and says, "A woman's clothes. It's everywhere in his apartment. When I confronted him, Dez looks at me if he has no clue to what I was talking 'bout."

"Are you sure about that? This is Dez."

"Ally, I swear to god, I wouldn't lie to you. As much as that idiot bothers me, I wouldn't do anything to wreck your relationship. I knew I had to tell you."

"Okay, Trish, I believe you. I'll go over right now, and deal with this," she says, her voice changes to an indignant tone. _Please let this be misunderstanding_.

"I'm coming with you," Trish shouts after her, as Ally fumbles for her keys. "You aren't going like that, are you?"

Ally takes in her appearance on her phone screen. Two brown eyes, almost converting to a crimson color, stare back at her. She can trace the lines where bags being to form over her eyelids. Her lips: dry, cracked, and colorless bring out the tangles in her hair perfectly.

"I could do something to freshen up." She brings a lock of hair to her face. "But I've to go. If what you say is true, I don't know what I'll do to Dez. I might just burn all his amazing sandwiches' collection, destroy his prized DVD collection, and just make some amazing sketches on his favorite clothes." Her eyes glint with jealousy.

"Ally, you know you sound crazy," Trish points out to her, "Come on, I'll drive you."

She gets in the car, buckles herself in tightly, and waits impatiently for the journey to come to an end. She passes the time with thinking of ways she can destroy Dez's ego, if he has one. _Maybe she can ruin his films. Or smash his trophies. Tear up his autographs._ There are some much endless possibilities; she can't just choose one.

"Ally, we're here." Trish's voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she steps out of the car. "I'm going in. You wanna come in?"

Trish beams. "Of course, wouldn't miss it for the word. I've been waiting for this day forever."

Ally flashes her a 'really, you're kidding, right' look.

"You two sort this out. I'll wait here." Trish braces back on the car, whistling an inaudible tone.

"Thanks for telling me, Trish."

She fumbles in her bag for the keys, and when she finds them, she doesn't hesitate for a moment before she opens the door. Walking in, she switches the light on, and searches for Dez. "Dez," she calls, receiving no answer from him.

_He isn't, he can't be, could he?_

She walks to his bedroom, knocking twice before entering. Without a second thought, she switches the light on, causing Dez to stir. He still doesn't wake up fully. Leaning in closer, she pulls his pillow under him; the notion makes his head hit the wall.

Dez rubs his eyes, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the gleaming light. "Ally, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me!"

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here! You should ask yourself that question," she yells without realizing it. "How could you do this to me! I can't believe you could do something like this."

Dez looks confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Where's she? Is she pretty?" She looks around the room.

"Who?"

"The girl."

"Girl?" It takes a minute before it hits him. "I can explain."

"Save your explanation. I can't believe this." She shakes her head, laughing. "You, doing something like this, out of everyone."

"Ally, I think you need to hear this." He holds her hand gently, caressing it. "Please let me explain. I was going to tell you."

"Fine," she answers reluctantly turning her head away.

Dez sighs. "It was supposed to be a surprise. Mom wanted to come by to visit me — you — for staying with me for so long." His voice softens.

"Your mom? But Trish said that there were clothes belonging to a woman all over… Oh my god, no."

It dawns on her.

"What did you think?"

She laughs it off. "Never mind about that. Your mom's here. You don't mind if I stay over."

"No."

Ally slips under the cover, moving her body to where the warmth is, forgetting all about Trish.


End file.
